The Hamburger and Pancake Challange!
by Cazuki
Summary: A '30 Themes, 30 Days' challenge with my two OTP's; USUK and PruCan. Started on 28th August 2013. Rated M for possible mentions of sexual activities. Date ended: 26th September 2013.
1. Preface

To lovers of USUK and PruCan,

I have decided to take upon the 30 day, 30 theme challenge. The way this works is that once per day I will be giving you guys a drabble or fic-let using a defined theme for each day. Considering I adore both USUK and PruCan equally, I have decided that I will do them intermittently.

I.e. Theme 1: USUK, Theme 2: PruCan etc.

I hope you guys like this and…

Start!

**Start date: 28****th**** August 2013**


	2. Time USUK

**Theme 1: Time**

**Couple: USUK**

**Date Written: 28th August 2013**

Time. Time, is a limited resource. We burn time like we burn oil and gas, indiscriminately and carelessly. In the heat of the moment, we all believe time will last forever- that it will never end. But, before we know it, our time is up and we are only left with the dregs, floundering and begging for more because of our own negligence and forgetfulness as to the passage and loss of time.

Relationships are measured in the length of time they last. Some last a day, others last lifetimes. Being a nation, time for us is measured by the time of our people. When our people's time run out, ours does as well.

So how does this all connect, how does time, relationships and nations chain together?

Well, I have someone I like – no, love is a better term for it. He is a nation, a nation strong with liberty and lively with the passionate hearts of his many people. I love him and, surprisingly, he loves me too. I don't know why and nor do I know how, but I only ask this of you, whichever God can hear me, please let our time together be long and cherished.

Amen.

A bang sounded as the door to the chapel was banged open by no-one else but America.

"There you are!" he exclaimed, not caring as to the setting he was in, yet again.

This time though, rather than berate the other for his actions, England just stood up from where he had been kneeling and walked towards the other.

"Come on, you idiot…" he said in a tone that had no bite.

America made an expression of confusion, but decided to follow England as he walked out, smiling his smile that England hoped would last forever, frozen in time.


	3. Cherry Blossoms PruCan

**Theme: Cherry Blossoms**

**Pairing: PruCan**

**Date of writing: 29****th**** August 2013**

It was a spring day, a spring day like any other. The sky was blue and filled with fluffy clouds and the sun was shining down. The grass was wet with the dew of the prevalent rain at night and sparkled with the sun. These, however, are not the things that most caught my attention. In fact, what did was the simplest of things. The date: February 14th.

That and the man who stood before me, dressed in a black school uniform, creased and top button undone. His build was slim and his skin was pale, almost unhealthily so. The things that were most eye-catching about him, however, were his hair and eyes. His eyes were as red as blood and glowed with animal instinct, his hair was a blank white, messed-up and unkempt.

The albino spoke, his normally loud and obnoxious voice toned down and growling, almost purring each syllable he pushed out in his thick German accent.

"Mattie. You know what day it is, ja?"

I moved back, of course I did, but I didn't want myself to think – to hope. As I did, I felt my back come up against something hard. It was a tree and, as I glanced up, I saw it had the most beautiful pink blossoms on it, which fell gracefully to the ground and gave the scene a dash of cinematic allure.

"Y-yes." I stuttered, my own French-Canadian accent coming through as I stayed up against the cherry tree, too nervous to move away from the albino.

"Good…" the other purred, moving closer without a second thought "then you probably know what I'm going to say, ja?"

A pause.

"N-no…" I responded, lying between my teeth.

A laugh broke through the silence, the albino's signature laugh.

"Kesesesese… You were always very bad at lying Mattie~"

"I-I'm no-" I try to say, before I am suddenly cut off by the albino moving forward and capturing my lips in his own, kissing me sweetly. He pulls back after a short moment and stares at me with his glowing eyes.

"My Birdie~"

"G-gilber-"

My lips are captured again, this time in a more passionate kiss and Gilbert moves forward and embraces me. Tentatively, I embrace him back.

"Cut!"

A voice cries out in the silence. It is a Japanese voice.

"That was great you two!" he exclaims, turning off the camera he had been holding "I knew getting you two to film a BL was a good idea."

Canada would probably have said something, if Prussia wasn't still kissing hm, which he was. Canada pushed Prussia off before he went too far, saying;

"Prussia! Didn't you hear Japan, the scenes over."

Prussia grinned and he answered bluntly.

"Nope."

He tried to move back in again and now Canada had to hold him back, not wanting to do such an embarrassing thing when Japan could see. Acting was one thing, but honestly kissing Prussia in front of someone else. He blushed at the idea and looked to Japan to tell him he was sorry for his partner when he noticed the spot Japan had previously occupied was empty. He looked around questioningly then sighed.

"That poser ninja…"

At the point, Prussia finally broke through Canada's defences and hugged him tightly, kissing him again with an altogether different feel than before.

"Hey, hey, focus on me Birdie~" he said, pouting like a little kid which made Canada smile. Yeah, he did love his Prussian, everything about him.

Meanwhile, up in the branches of the cherry tree, Japan sat, humming to himself as he smiled slightly. He would leave the two alone, for now. Besides, he'd get way better footage if it kept going like it was now. And so the cherry blossoms kept falling, falling and falling, though their beauty seems slight against the blossoming love of the Prussian and Canadian who they fell past.


	4. Story USUK

**Theme 3: Story**

**Pairing: USUK**

**Date written: 30th August 2013.**

Once upon a time, in the deepest depths of the African Plains, there was a family of meerkats. Meerkats were small and fast and very protective of their families. The leader of the meerkats, was a meerkat named Derfla. Derfla was a kind meerkat who liked to see the good side in every bad thing and thought that everyone, whether they be meerkat or not deserved a friend in life.

Now, also in the African plains, there was a pride of lions who live near the rocks of the jungle. They were big and strong and could scare any animal as they were kings of the animal kingdom. Their leader was a lion called Ruhtra. Ruhtra was a wise lion who could hunt any animal, even elephants and could always provide for his family. He was also very smart and could outsmart even the trickiest gazelle.

Now, one day, Derfla was out scouring for food when he saw something that amazed him. It was a tree, which was a rarity in the dry plains. It was tall and wide, but what was even more surprising was that in the highest rafters of the tree, there was fruit, succulent and delicious fruit and enough to last his family many moons. The problem was, was that when Derfla tried to climb to the fruit, he found he got tired before he could reach the top. He tried once, twice and even thrice but still he could not reach.

At the same time, Ruhtra, having just succeeded in a hunt, was walking back to his pride, dragging along the body of a recently killed gazelle, his maw covered in blood. Now, Ruhtra saw Derfla trying and failing to climb the tree and walked over, leaving the gazelle as he walked over.

"What are you doing?" he growled, making Derfla turn.

"Trying to reach the fruit in the tree." He said, not at all afraid of the lion who stood before him with blood on his maw.

This made Ruhtra pause. The other was not scared of him, of whom so many of his own kind were afraid. It perked his curiosity. You see, despite being the leader of the pride, Ruhtra didn't have many friends to speak of. Sicnarf was one of his friends, but the other lion only like to flirt with the lionesses and never hunted for fear it would damage his shining coat. Treblig was another, though the other only liked to hunt and had bad relations with the rest of the pack.

Ruhtra paused for a while, not speaking and then growled again.

"Stand on my back."

"What?" Derfla asked, confused at the command.

"You could reach the fruit then…" Ruhtra responded.

Derfla, when he understood the idea, smiled and stood on Ruhtra's back, which let him get high enough to climb to the fruit and back down.

"Thank you!" Derfla told the lion when he got down, holding and armful of fruit for his family "do you want to be friends, Mr Lion?"

Ruhtra paused again, the smiled.

"Of course…"

From then on, Ruhtra and Derfla became very good friends and Derfla even became an honorary lion.

England looked down, having finished his story to see that Little America was now fast asleep. America had always loved England's stories, even if they were a bit cheesy. And every time one ended, he would ask England excitedly.

"How did it end?"

Even if he was sleeping, England could almost hear the question in his head and smiled warmly.

"Derfla turned out to be one of the best 'lions' in the whole of the pride… and Ruhtra… finally wasn't alone anymore…"

England got up and then started to walk out of the room, looking back at America before walking out, smiling and hoping the little nation would never change, just like Derfla.


	5. Rain PruCan

**Theme 4: Rain**

**Pairing: PruCan**

**Date Written: 31****st**** August 2013**

Prussia loved rain, it was official. When asked about their opinions on rain, most people would probably say they found it a nuisance, and in most ways that is true. Rain floods rivers and lakes, rain causes motor accidents and rain has probably been a reason many people catch their death of cold. To Prussia though, rain meant something wholly different.

Rain reminded him of the battle-field. The small droplets of water reminded him of when he had been great, when he'd fought the Battle of Königgrätz, outnumbered, and had won and kicked that prissy Austrian in the ass. It reminded him of what he had been, a fighter, a knight, a leader. Sometimes, it made him sad too though, because he knew that, now, he could never regain his former glory. His brother would have to take that mantle now, which Prussia didn't awfully mind, it gave him more time to enjoy himself, more time to be human.

"Prussia?"

And, of course, more time to enjoy his boyfriend.

Prussia looked away from the window towards Canada, who had poked his head into the room. He shouldn't have been so nervous, it was his house after all, but he couldn't help but be that way when Prussia watched the rain. Prussia gave off an aura in those times that made Canada very begrudging to divide his attention. It was like Prussia was in a place that Canada shouldn't set foot in, some holy ground where none but he may enter.

Prussia smiled, as he always did when his Canadian was around and stood up from the old chair he had been sitting on.

"Ja, Birdie? What is it?" He asked, his glowing red eyes fixated fully on Canada.

Canada blushed slightly, he liked it when Prussia looked at him,

"Do you want to… go to bed?"

Prussia paused and both said nothing for a while before Prussia moved forward and suddenly hugged Canada, kissing him on the forehead.

"You always know what to say, don't you?" He hummed.

Before Canada had a chance to respond though, Prussia suddenly moved with great speed and lifted up Canada into a bridal hold and started running through the halls to their shared bedroom. Canada was blushing madly, knowing how this would turn out as Prussia grinned madly.

Sure, Prussia loved the rain, but he loved his little Birdie a lot more. And, in his opinion, nothing beat having sex with Canada while he could hear the rain pattering against the window. Nothing.


	6. Sword USUK

**Theme 5: Sword**

**Pairing: USUK**

**Date Written: 1****st**** September 2013**

It was a cool night on the open sea, the boat bobbing slowly up and down in the water as it drove slowly and majestically towards its destination. It was a trade ship, coming from many Isles of prosper to deliver goods of salt, brandy and gold to the inhabitants of other lands, both near and far. It's Captain, was the both revered and loved, Alfred F. Jones. He looked over the edge of the ship into the vast expanse of the sea, smiling to himself as he kept his hands behind his back, humming some old tune to himself. He wore a blue-coat, decorated with the many badges and medals of a military leaders, with a white under-coat and black, hard-wearing trousers.

He was brought out of his trance by the call of one of his men, the lookout from the Crow's nest high above.

"Cap'un!" the man shouted, his eyes glued to the end of a spyglass, fully extended and looking towards the Eastern sea.

"What is it?" Alfred replied, turning around to look up at the lookout, which was difficult considering the lack of light.

"There's a ship, and it's comin' towards us Cap'un!"

"A ship?" Alfred questioned, taking to the rigging as he climbed up to the Crow's nest and took the spyglass from the lookout.

It took him a while to focus it, but eventually you could see something, a small smidge of light on the horizon which steadily grew closer and closer until you could just barely make out the mast and the hull of a ship, dully lit up by old lanterns and candles. Alfred took his eye away from the spyglass and passed it back to the lookout, who took it.

It didn't take Alfred long to climb back down the rigging to the deck, then moving to the side of the ship where the other ship was starting to come into view. The hull was large, about the same size as the trade-ships and seemed to have a figure-head of a… bunny with wings? Besides the weird motif, another thing was prevalent about the ship. Atop its mast, flapping stubbornly in the sea air, was a skull-and-cross-bones flag.

"Pirates…" Alfred mumbled quietly, then he called, alerting all other members of the ship "Pirates!"

Everyone immediately drew to attention, they knew what this meant.

Soon, everyone was running around, preparing for the incoming fight. The pirate ship was coming from East, while Alfred's ship was going West, meaning that if the pirate ship continued on its course, it would eventually go side-by-side with the trade ship. Cannons were loaded, swords and muskets were collected and the crew assembled onto the main deck, gearing themselves out. Everyone knew about pirates, about their savagery and tenacity.

Alfred too, donned his sword, a sabre and put white gloves on his hands. He was ready, ready for anything.

Soon, the pirate ship started to close in, going slightly faster than Alfred's ship. As it drew closer, many things made themselves apparent, such as the cannons on the top and under-deck and the limpets stuck on the side of the ship. You could also see the crew of the ship, watching with hungry eyes as they approached closer and closer. Alfred stood firm however, he knew he was ready. He waited until the ship drew closer, closer. The ship drew close to the side of the trade-ship and Alfred was about to order a fire when a loud voice shouted out from the deck of the other ship.

"Hello there!" the voice called, loud and British-accented.

Alfred turned his head to the ship, holding off on the order to fire as he saw the man who had made the call.

He wore a red coat, tattered with age but still strangely regal, with a white shirt and old trousers. Alfred looked up at his face and was met with poison green eyes, well, one at least, the other, the man's left eye, was covered by a black piece of fabric. The man continued to speak, eyes fixed directly on Alfred.

"Nice day to go by sea, is it not?" he said, grinning a snarky grin.

"I have no want to say to you if it is a good day or not, pirate scum!" Alfred shouted back, earning a cheer from his crew. The other man, though, didn't seem to be the least bit moved by the harsh words.

"Ah, such youth!" he replied "so ignorant."

A cheer came from the opposing side and snickers from Alfred's own, which caused Alfred to get slightly embarrassed and annoyed.

"What are you saying, old man? Should I go get you your medicine now so you can lie down?"

Another cheer, this time, the other man seemed to be more affected, but kept it quiet as he spoke again, a slight bite now in his tone.

"Well, it seems we are at an impasse. I would love to banter with you, boy. But you see, I have business to take care of."

Alfred was just about to end the conversation with a call to fire when the red-coated man beat him to it.

"Fire!"

A loud bang filled the air as the cannons on the pirate ship fired and hit the side of Alfred's ship, causing the deck to shake. Alfred didn't waste any time.

"Fire back!"

The cannons on Alfred's ship went, causing slight damage to the pirate ship. The red-coated man growled before saying something to his men. The men rushed around quickly and soon a fire-fight began as the cannons roared and boarding planks were brought out.

"Stop them getting on the ship at all costs!" Alfred shouted as he rushed to dispatch of the men who had managed to get on the ship.

Alfred was so caught up in fighting the pirates, knocking them into the sea or causing them fatal injuries, that he didn't notice when the red-coated man suddenly swung on-board with the help of a rope. When he did, the man was almost next to him. He looked strangely handsome from close-up and Alfred had to fight staring at the other as the other bared his own sword, a cutlass.

"Do you want to see what this old man can do?" the man asked "oh yes, how rude of me, I forgot to tell you my name. It's Arthur, though most call me Captain Kirkland."

Alfred grit his teeth, then smiled.

"My name is Captain Jones and I shall be your opponent."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, dear." Arthur said as he then swung at Alfred with his sword with a cry.

"Wah!"

England jerked, his arm stopping as his mind came back into reality. He looked down to see America lying down there, an old sabre in his hands. He looked scared shitless.

"What's wrong?" England replied, his eyebrows raising quizzically, though the left one was hidden behind an eye-patch he'd bought from a costume store.

"You'll break the bed." The other said, shuffling around a bit nervously on the water bed which had been brought out for this particular occasion. A few days ago, England had been rifling through his old closets when he had found his old cutlass from his pirate days. While England had wanted to throw away the object, America had gotten the idea into his head that the item would be a great prop in a roleplay idea he's wanted to do for a long time now. So here they were, England straddling America, wearing his old pirate uniform while America was trapped below him in a blue-pirate uniform bought from a corner store.

"I guess you're right." England said as he lowered the blade. Surprisingly, he'd really gotten into it, the roleplaying he meant.

America smiled, happy now that he wasn't going to have his head cut off by his boyfriend. He reached up with one hand and brought England down for a kiss, making the other moan and blush slightly. America rubbed his lower half against England and purred in his ear.

"Now how 'bout we continue this fight the right way, Captain Kirkland?"

England smiled.

"Yes, lets."


	7. Iris PruCan

**Theme 6: Iris**

**Pairing: PruCan**

**Date Written: 2nd September 2013**

Eyes are awesome, you know? Some famous guy once said that eyes were the window into the soul, and I, for one, believe that. If you think about it, it makes complete sense, whether you believe in the concept of the soul or not. You can tell many things by a person's eyes. You can tell if they're happy or sad, excited or sullen. You can also tell when their lying or telling the truth. In some cases, you can even tell what the person's personality is like.

The one thing more amazing than the human eye is the eye of a nation. You see, most people have the ordinary colours; blue, brown, green, grey. But nations, no, nations aren't bound by those rules. Or, at least, that's what we think. I, for example, have the most stunning set of red eyes this side of the world. They aren't like those other red eyes albinos have, no, these ones are special, because they're mine and have seen things that a normal human set of eyes would never see.

Now, the only thing more amazing than my awesome eyes are the eyes of a certain sexy Canadian I know. You might have heard of him. Canada ring any bells? Yes? No? It better because he has eyes you'd never be able to forget. His eyes are the most supple shade of purple imaginable, dark violet with a tinge of shine that are unique to his eyes. His eyes are the most special out of all the nation's eyes, and so the whole world's. Why? Because they look so… innocent. Not like that damn Ruski's eyes which could burn a hole in any soul, not like his brother's eyes which fake their shine. No, his eyes, they're loving, soft-spoken, playful and most of all mine, much like the person who uses them.

I'd never tell him, but those eyes… they were the reason I first fell in love with him. Those innocent, lovely violet eyes which could turn the coldest and oldest heart to gold. He did it with me, so why not anyone else?

Eyes are the window into the soul, you know? Well, if that's true, Canada is the closest thing I'll get to an angel in this life, or any other.

"What are you doing, Prussia?" Canada asked, sitting up in bed while Prussia put down his diary onto the bed-side drawer. His eyes were blurry and Prussia smiled as he kissed Canada's forehead soothing.

"Nothing you'd want to know." He said, laying down and Canada laying down with him, all too happy to continue sleeping. As his eyes closed, Canada noticed Prussia was looking at him straight in the eyes. He blushed, lightly. He really did love Prussia's red eyes.

**Sorry if this one sucks more than the others. I'm writing this after a long day. Anyway, this seems to be going well so far, let's hope I can keep it up!**


	8. Bamboo USUK

**Theme 7: Bamboo**

**Pairing: USUK**

**Date written: 4****th**** September 2013**

Recently, after a trip to Japan for a world meeting, England had brought home a small flower-pot. America obviously complained because he thought it was stupid to bring home something which seemed to have nothing inside of it except dirt.

Of course, England had his way in the end, bring the small flower-pot home to his house. America, meanwhile, just shrugged it off as another one of his boyfriend's crazy magic mumbo-jumbo.

About a week or two later, America went on a trip to England for work, though it was more like an excuse to see his boyfriend. When he'd entered England's home he saw the flower-pot again, though this time a stub was sticking out from the dirt. America, in his childish curiosity, had tried to poke the stub, but was fiercely reprimanded by England for trying to do so. America pouted, why's he care so much for a stupid plant, he was his boyfriend, wasn't he?

Every time America visited England's house, it was the same. The stub grew bigger and bigger until eventually America could distinguish it as one of the weird plants they have in Japan, the one that pandas eat or something. He still didn't know why England had gotten it though, as normally the Brit didn't bring home plants from other countries, due to the adverse weather in his own.

It hit him when he was watching an episode of Mythbusters. They were talking about how a bamboo shoot had to be stubborn and very strong to poke it's head out of the ground and grow into a bamboo shoot. America may have been ignorant in some things, but one thing he knew was England. England had always had a thing for double-meanings, some of his famous play-writers being an example.

America went to England the next day and confronted England.

"That plant…" he said, pointing at the almost fully-grown bamboo shoot, "is a metaphor, isn't it?"

England had blushed and denied it fervently, but America knew that with every head shake the other did, he was only reaffirming America's suspicions. The bamboo shoot had to grow in adverse conditions, with almost everything going against it, like England's and America's relationship. From the dirt that was the war of independence to the sprouting of their love for one another, the bamboo shoot was a symbol of endearment from England towards their relationship. And America thought he was the only one who was sappy.

**Sorry, missed a day because was busy on the day this was supposed to be written. So today, you'll be getting two. Caz.**


	9. Moon PruCan

**Theme 8: Moon**

**Pairing: PruCan**

**Date written: 4****th**** September 2013**

Canada was pissed. It was July 20th 1969 and Apollo 11 had just landed on the surface of the moon. The moon, could you believe it. For hundreds, maybe even thousands of years, many people had dreamed of leaving Earth's surface. Canada's people included. Canada himself was a space nerd, though not as much as his older brother, who seemed to have positively idolized the vast emptiness. Canada had theorised it was either because space reminded him of his pursuit for freedom or because it was a new place to gain control of. Canada just liked space because of how it looked, especially the moon.

France had once told him that the moon was infinitely more beautiful than the sun and Canada believed that. He'd always wanted to go to the moon, but for many, many years, it had been seen as impossible. But now there were people there, it's just that they were all American. That was why Canada was angry, as he looked up in the direction of the moon, his calm expression broken with a twitching frown on his lips. Sometimes, he loved his brother, other times he'd rather have been born of another family. Right then, he had been feeling jealous. It was another thing everyone always remember America for, but not Canada, no, not him.

Canada felt someone pushing his shoulder and turned slightly, nuzzling into something warm next to him. The warm thing chuckled, sending vibrations through his chest.

"Biride~ I know you think I'm awesomely cuddly, but if you don't open your eyes soon, you won't see the moon."

Canada paused then slowly opened his eyes, brought out of sleep by the harsh voice of his lover. It had been a long time since 1969, a very long time. In fact, many things had changed since then. Something's, however, did not. After that day in 1969, Canada had rarely if ever gone out to look at the stars again, stubbornly refusing to in a form of protest against his brother. His brother didn't really deserve it, nor did he really notice what Canada was doing and why, but Canada still did it, to make a point.

He wouldn't have come out tonight, save the complaining of Prussia, who said he wanted to see the stars tonight because the sky was clear. Canada, snuggled against the body of Prussia as they lay on a hill-side, looked at Prussia. He wanted to see the stars and the moon again, but part of him still held him back. Prussia must have noticed the regretful expression on Canada's face, because he gave him a look of genuine concern, which was rare.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," Canada said stubbornly "I just don't want to see the stars…"

"You don't? Then why's I find a bunch of old space-ship posters under the bed in your room?"

Canada jerked back in slight shock. He shouldn't have been surprised really, Prussia always had a habit of leafing through things he shouldn't.

Prussia continued, "Hey Birdie… did I ever tell you about the time when Russia was competing with your brother to get to the moon?"

Canada paused. Of course he knew about that. The Space Race, it had been called here.

"Yes…" he said cautiously, unsure of where this was going.

"Well, that Ruski wanted to get to space real bad. It was important to him, you know? He made all these crazy plans for space-ships and space-stations. I always wanted to go to the moon…"

"You did?" Canada asked. He hadn't thought someone like Prussia, who had lived for much longer than Canada, wold want to go to the moon, considering he had so much here on Earth.

"Yeah, but that bastard never involved me with his plans. I was just an annoyance to him, an eyesore. You imagine what it was like when he sent up that damn satellite…"

Canada realized it then. Prussia, in his own clumsy way, was trying to cheer him up. Canada laughed then shifted so he was looking up. The beauty of the cosmos came at him all at once and for a few brief moments, he forgot why he'd ever stopped looking at it.

"I thought you didn't want to look at the stars?"

"I don't… unless I'm with you…"

He could almost feel Prussia smile as the other turned onto his back and looked up with Matthew, moving his right hand to grab Canada's left.

_Yeah… _Canada thought _I beat you at least in one thing, brother… Moon, be damned._


	10. Shooting Star USUK

**Theme 9: Shooting Star**

**Pairing: USUK**

**Date Written: 5****th**** September 2013**

It's one of the oldest fairy-tales in the book. Wish upon a shooting star and your wish will be granted, so long as you do not tell anyone else what the wish was before it came true. Surprisingly, it had been one of the few fairy tales that England hadn't known when he was younger. He'd had a rough childhood, constantly getting new leaders from all sorts of places and having wars on religion seemingly every time someone even mentioned the word 'God'. For a nation like him, a shooting star – not even a hundred of them – could probably have made him any happier.

That'd changed when he had met America. Of course, it was a rocky start and for a while America even seemed close to going over to the damn Frog's side. But, when he'd chosen England, England had been given something he had never been given before. A chance to be more than just a personification of a nation. A chance to have a family, which he had never had before. America became his anchor, his everything.

It made it all the more terrible when he had left him in the years he had fought for his Independence. America had then given him the gift of sorrow and regret.

It took England many years to realise what the America had done had not entirely been a curse. His regret and his sorrow had made him change, if only slightly. Enough that he almost completely stopped his pirating activities, which could have killed him one day, and ,eventually, turned him into the man he was now. Then, America had come back, albeit, in less than good circumstances. During the World Wars, he had given him something to strive for, someone to be. He'd given him a reason to keep fighting, even when things seemed bleak. Yes, America had given him many, many things.

"England! Look, a shooting-star!" America exclaimed eagerly, looking out the window of England's front room. England looked up to see the streak across the sky, a blazing inferno meant to light the hearts and hopes of all those who saw it. He smiled, if only a little.

"Come on, we gotta make a wish!" America continued on, before falling silent for a moment and changing his expression to one of concentration.

England smiled again, the other still believed in that old fairy-tale, even now.

"I don't believe in that story…"

"You don't!" America gasped, obviously shocked, after all, the Brit seemed to believe in pixies and magic flying bunnies. Why not a shooting star? "Why?"

From then, England wouldn't say another word about, no matter how much the America pleaded and begged. But, there was a reason.

_Because, why should I believe in a star going by my window when I can trust the angel by my side?_


	11. Rice PruCan

**Theme 10: Rice**

**Pairing: PruCan**

**Date Written: 6****th**** September 2013**

The day had started out normally. Canada woke up, Prussia beside him snoring peacefully. He slowly got up, trying his hardest not to disturb his sleeping boyfriend as he put on his clothes that had been thrown all around the room from the adventures the night before. He dressed and then walked downstairs, walking to the kitchen to prepare pancakes for breakfast like he did most days.

The smell probably woke Prussia up more than anything and soon he was downstairs, still completely naked as he sat at the table, looking at Canada expectantly with those glowing red orbs of his.

"You could put on some clothes, you know."

"Yeah, I could, but I don't wanna. Maybe after food."

Canada just sighed at that. When Prussia's mind was set on something, he rarely if ever changed it.

After pancakes and another small argument about Prussia being under-dressed, Prussia put on some clothes and they went outside for a walk. Near their home was a small church which Matthew and Prussia sometimes attended on Sundays. There seemed to be a wedding going on that day. The bells were clanging out a merry tune and people were standing outside, laughing and smiling as the bride and groom exited the church.

They threw rice at them, as was the tradition and formed an aisle for the two happy newly-weds to walk down.

Canada looked at them in awe as they walked past. He'd always been a romantic at heart, most definitely because of his French blood, so something like this always made him watch and awe. Prussia must have noticed because he suddenly went really close to Canada's ear and whispered sensually;

"You want to get married?"

Canada jerked out of the way suddenly, covering the ear the Prussia had been speaking in and blushing to high heaven. Prussia could not be serious.

"W-what makes you think that?" he responded.

"Well, it's either that or you really like rice."

Canada was growing steadily more embarrassed as Prussia leaned in, his trademark grin etched into his face. He decided to take the easy way out.

"Y-yeah, seeing the rice made me hungry I suppose."

Prussia drew back for a second, a confused expression on his face before he smiled again.

"Why don't we go and get some rice then, my treat!"

Prussia started walking off quickly, leaving Canada and the wedding behind. Canada gave a look back as he started to walk off. Of course he wanted to get married, but hell if he was letting Prussia propose without at least a ring.


	12. Wind Chimes USUK

**Theme 11: Wind Chimes**

**Pairing: USUK**

**Date Written: 7****th**** September 2013**

The summer afternoon sun was high in the sky, Its rays heating the ground and air surrounding England's house. The summer had been long, only now starting to give in to the creeping chill that was autumn, or fall to the American. The only thing that made the heat tolerable was the small breeze that blew through the house.

America was sitting on the porch outside one of England's homes, lying on his side with a small electric fan. The small breeze whispered around, making the wind-chimes hanging from one of the supports chime leisurely.

"God, I hate summer." England supplied in the silence, holding a paper fan and flapping it furiously as he went out to the porch.

"Nothing compared to summer in the States dude, this is like paradise to me." America replied, not moving from his side as he looked out from the porch.

"Hmph." England said shortly. He'd never been one for warm temperatures, sue in no small part to the traditional weather in his country of rain, snow and sometimes the odd ray of sunlight breaching through the heavy cloud bank. In the past few years, however, his weather had started changing, causing drought then flood the year before. It was most likely global warming which was making England's weather so erratic, but England didn't care much about that right now as he sat on a deck-chair on the porch.

America was here because his boss was doing something important and he had been sent to deal with business in England. Of course, he would have come anyway, but this gave him a chance to not have to pay for it himself for once.

"How do you deal with this insufferable heat where you come from? It is ridiculous…" England continued, still irritated by the almost still heat.

America turned onto his back, giving him a glance. For a moment, he didn't speak, then he smiled and got up off the floor.

"You wanna know?"

England, too annoyed and desperate to stop his imminent overheat, didn't question the American as he responded.

"Sure, whatever, just tell me."

England suddenly felt a large weight on him as America pounced on the deck-chair, straddling England as he went up and kissed him. The kiss was rough and arousing and England couldn't help groaning.

"I make myself even hotter, then I can ignore the heat."

England didn't question the ridiculous reasoning behind what America had just said, choosing instead to drop his fan on the ground and wrap his arms around the American.

"Ok then, show me."

America smiled and went back to kissing England. Meanwhile the wind-chimes above them continued their random song, setting the temp for the events that were to occur. Maybe a British summer wasn't so bad after all.


	13. Glass PruCan

**Theme 12: Glass**

**Pairing: PruCan**

**Date Written: 8****th**** September 2013**

Glass is one of the weakest materials on Earth. That's what many people say. You wouldn't build a car out of glass, nor a gun, nor a sword. Many people believe that glass is a weak material which can only look pretty and has no practical use other than the ability to be transparent. People with glass hearts are given much the same treatment. While everyone complains of people's increasing apathy nowadays, we contradict ourselves by belittling those who are more sensitive and need to be handled with more care. We call them melodramatic, divaish, naïve.

But think about it. Which is better, glass or steel? Sure, glass may be easy to break, but it's easy to repair as well. Steel is hard to break, but impossible to repair once it does. Glass is transparent and can hide no secrets, but steel is opaque and cannot express itself in any other way than being a dull grey husk.

Steel is practical and useful but it can never attain true beauty or spiritual peace. Glass can be moulded and re-moulded and turned into many beautiful things, from a paper-weight to a figurine with no equal. Glass also, unlike steel, can be enhanced, made stronger, made better, made to protect others instead of hurt them.

Now, you may be wondering why I' talking about glass and glass hearts. Well, you may be surprised to know that one of the most awesome people on Earth has a glass heart. He's fought in many a war, shouted in many an argument and killed in many a bloodbath. But, underneath his lean figure and red eyes is a heart as fragile as glass. He does feel emotion, but he chooses to hide it, had to hide it. He isn't as egocentric as he shows himself to be, but he had to show that, had to act. He had to pretend he wanted no-one in the world, that he could fly alone forever like the eagle he so adores. But, he need someone, deep down, he needed someone to care for him and his crack glass heart, to become his equal, his partner, his other half. The part that was needed to complete this glass man. I was surprised the first time I saw him scared or sad or regretful. I thought they were emotions he could never hope to understand. In fact, he knows them more than most will ever understand.

Is it selfish? Selfish to know that you are the one who holds that glass heart in the palm of your hands. Is it selfish to think that, if you dropped it, it would shatter into a hundred pieces and its owner with it? Maybe, but that's why I hold it tightly, hold it tightly against my own heart and try to make it stronger, something that will never break.

Glass, it is a weak material and people always say it is doomed to fracture and break. But I will make sure this glass heart, with no parallel in this universe, will never break. Never break and become strong enough to deflect anything that may come in its path again. To this, I solemnly swear.


	14. Far Away USUK

**Theme 13: Far Away**

**Pairing: USUK**

**Date Written: 9****th**** September 2013**

* * *

I see him going off again,

Out into the sea,

He's on another adventure you see,

With gold and jewels to gain.

* * *

Wearing his coat of stunning red,

He goes away,

Far Away.

* * *

I see the lighting crackle.

Wearing my coat of blue.

It's an iridescent hue,

The colour to break my shackle.

* * *

Wearing his coat of grey,

He seems far away,

Far Away.

* * *

In times of war and pain,

I appear again to help.

But all he does is call me 'Whelp'

And look on me with disdain.

* * *

Wearing his coat of green,

He pushes me away,

Far Away.

* * *

All seems lost and without hope,

Everything seems to be in vain.

I realized too late to complain.

It was impossible to cope.

* * *

Wearing my coat of brown leather,

I am far away,

Far Away.

* * *

One day the sun rose high,

And with it my spirits too.

Because he spoke to me words anew,

Words that made me cry.

* * *

We may not be perfect,

We may even be insane.

But, wearing out coats of past and future,

Those dark days seem far away.

Far Away.

* * *

**Ha ha! Now you have been exposed to my really bad poetry! Anyway, it seems to be going well so far. I'm almost halfway! Yay! (hey, I rhymed)**


	15. Butterfly PruCan

**Theme 14: Butterfly**

**Pairing: PruCan**

**Date Written: 10****th**** September 2013**

When you're in a relationship, you must always be ready to take the good, the bad and the weird characteristics of your partner. For instance, did you know that Canada has a habit of sleep-talking? The theory was it was born out of not really speaking while awake. Prussia has had many a dirty conversation with a half-asleep Canada. Or, did you know that Prussia is an insane snuggler, to the point of which it is almost impossible to leave his grasp when you wake up in the mornings?

So yeah, you need to be prepared for these sort of things as they come up in a relationship. Then again, what is a relationship for, if not to learn more about the other person?

Anyway, I'm getting off track. The story begins on a cool day in Spring. It had rained heavily the night before and now the ground was covered in small puddles and the grass was sprinkled with dew. Prussia and Canada were in a small woodland, having come to England for another summit meeting. Of course, nothing had been really sorted out, but Canada didn't mind. Prussia wasn't technically meant to be at the meetings anymore, but came anyway as an envoy of Canada. It always made Canada smile lightly when the other was sitting across the room, fiddling with pencils on the table or stroking the chest of his fluffy yellow chick; Gilbird.

It was shortly after the meeting and England had said that a meal would be prepared for the night. Until then, everyone could do as they wished. The venue had been fairly rural this time and so there was a woodland next to the building. Prussia had practically dragged Canada into it. That was one thing that Canada knew about Prussia; he loved nature and adventures, whether it be hiking in the mountains or strolling in the park.

"Come on Birdie~" Prussia exclaimed as he continued to walk deeper into the woods, Gilbird resting on top of his head.

"I'm coming." Canada reassured as he followed Prussia at a slower pace, making sure he remembered the path they had taken so they wouldn't get lost later.

They walked for about an hour or so, staying in silence most of the time, though occasionally they had small conversations before falling into a blissful silence again. Eventually, they came to what seemed to be the centre of the woods, where a small pool lay. Prussia stopped, looking up at the sky, which had turned dark in the time they had been walking.

"This place looks awesome, but not nearly as awesome as the forests in Germany!"

Coming from Prussia, that was a huge compliment and the trees probably would have thanked him, had they any concept of thought or speech.

They stood at the side of the lake, pausing before something came into Canada's view. It was small, a small fluttering thing with vivid colours. A butterfly.

"Hey, Prussia, look." He said, pointing to the small creature.

"Huh?" Prussia hummed before seeing the butterfly and smiling, laughing his signature laugh, "yeah, that's pretty sweet."

Considering how loud Prussia was, Canada had expected the butterfly to fly away. Instead, the butterfly seemed to change course and instead headed towards them, moving closer and closer until in landed on Prussia's head, right next to Gilbird.

"H-hey!" Prussia exclaimed, blushing slightly at how ridiculous he probably looked to Canada.

Canada just laughed, mumbling something.

"Cute."

"What?" Prussia asked.

"Nothing."

In a relationship, you lean many strange thing about your partner. Like how Prussia is apparently a butterfly magnet.


	16. Wings USUK

**Theme 15: Wings**

**Pairing: USUK**

**Date Written: 11****th**** September 2013**

Life has a way of throwing curve balls at you. You believe you're just walking calmly in a rut, day by day passing you by. You believe you have everything in place, that nothing would surprise you. Then life throws something unexpected at you, something you'd never have thought would happen in a thousand years.

This particular case involves a certain drunk Brit.

England had been out drinking again with France, Prussia and Spain, which in of itself was a strange occurrence. History dictated that none of them particularly liked each other. America had asked England about that once and had been told that just because they were all bastards didn't mean they weren't fun to get drunk with. Anyway, England had gone out drinking and, once again, he had overdone it.

America had been woken up at four in the morning by a phone call.

A considerably drunk Frenchman was on the other side.

"Amerique~"

"Yeah, Francy-pants?"

"Could you come down here and get your boyfriend? I'd take him home myself but he'd probably castrate me in the morning, even if I didn't do anything to him~"

America sighed. It was incredible how, even when completely hammered, France had a keen sense of protecting his reproductive system. America doubted, even if France's statement hadn't been true, that he would have taken England home anyway.

"Sure, I'll be over there in thirty minutes, tops."

"Ah good~ could you possibly get here slightly quicker, Angleterre is getting tres impair-"

"Who're ya talking ta, ya Frenchy b'stard!"

"Oops.. got to go."

The line cut dead, leaving America to massage his temple slightly as he got up and dressed. While America was a fun-loving man and childish by many accounts, he had one thing that made him become like this. England being drunk. It was one of the only things on Earth and the Universe that annoyed him to no end. And why? You'll see.

It took twenty-five minutes for America to get his car to the pub where England had said they'd be going for the night, after much prodding on America's part. England never saw a reason for America to know such things, but America knew how these things went, so he always made sure he knew. When he got there, the scene was far from pretty. Prussia was half-naked, top whirling in the air as he sang some old war song. Spain was no better, seemingly having degraded to his pirate state and trying to have a sword-fight with a brick wall with a twig. France, surprisingly, seemed to be the most stable, leaning against a pay-phone as he spoke in hurried to French to what America could only expect to be his brother to pick Prussia up. The conversation sounded heated. Canada hated Prussia getting drunk as much as America did England.

England was nowhere to be seen however. That was, until there was shout from inside the pub and America looked over to see England running out, almost completely naked save a black waiters apron. He was holding a mug in his hands, throwing it around like it was some great treasure, although it was empty.

It didn't take long for England to see America. He instantly ran up to him, dropping the mug as he hugged the American, snuggling into his chest like a puppy.

"America~ Where were ya~? The King was waiting for ya!"

That was one thing that annoyed America. When England was drunk, he tended to let loose completely. Not like America didn't mind England's wild side, but this was different. He acted like he was king of the world and everyone should follow his orders.

"Yeah, yeah, come on." America said as he dragged England away from the scene.

After a long struggle to drive home, America eventually got England back to his house and walked him in.

"Ah, cam on, 'Merica! You know you wanna!"

"No, I don't."

The subject in question was whether or not England was allowed to have sex with America tonight. Normally, America would have jumped at the chance of the Brit asking for it. But he didn't' when he was drunk because of reasons later explained.

America walked England to his bedroom and let the Brit walk himself into the en-suite bathroom to clean up before going to bed. America thought he was home free when he suddenly felt a weight on the bed where he was lying. He looked up. That was the curveball. England was looming over him, still with only his black waiter's apron on, but now complete with a pair of costume angel wings.

"What are you doing, dude?" America asked.

"Roholeplay." England slurred, "I know you wanted to do it~"

This is the second thing that annoyed America about England getting drunk. He became overly pushy and very adept at turning people on, while normally he was more calculated and less seductive about it.

Of course, America could really deny the winged man above him, especially as he was grinding down on him pretty hard. Two hours later of raunchy sex and England was lying on America's chest, a content expression on his face as he snored quietly. The next day, America knew, England would wake up with a terrible hangover and asking why the hell he was snuggling with America. That was the third thing that annoyed America. England never remembered any of what had happened the night before.

America sighed as he looked up at the ceiling. The major reason he hated England getting drunk was because when he was drunk he reminded him of… well… him. And, in his opinion, being reminded of his negative points was one of the most unheroic feeling in the world.


	17. Past PruCan

**Theme 16: Past**

**Pairing: PruCan**

**Date Written: 12****th**** September 2013**

Many people think Canada has always been as Canada is now. They believe that he was always the quiet, somewhat meek nation, who couldn't even get his pet Polar bear to remember his name, let alone any of the other nations.

He wasn't always like that though. He had been destined to be a warrior nation, when he had been a child and before England and France had come. Then, he was separated from his brother by France and lived with him peacefully for a short time before France just gave him away to England. Of course, Canada had been pissed, though he didn't show it. He thought it was alright, after all, he was back with his brother. Then his brother just had to start a war which ended up with Canada still living with England, who wouldn't give a second look at him. That was, thinking about it, when he had first started to become invisible to others. When his brother had charged forth and gained his liberty while he, his younger brother, was forced to live in the shadows.

Canada fought in wars too, but no-one particularly remembers them. Or, if they do, it's because his 'big brother' was standing beside him.

It'd changed when he met Prussia. In a way, they completed each other. One who was never seen and one who nobody couldn't see. One who had secret angers and one who fully expressed them. One who was ying, one who was yang.

In the end, the past is the past. As they say, yesterday is dead, tomorrow is vague and the present is bliss.


	18. Snow USUK

**Theme 17: Snow**

**Pairing: USUK**

**Date Written: 13****th**** September 2013**

England was sleeping ever so well, the sweet silence of his room the only sound. That was, until a loud voice boomed through the room, shattering the silence and with it England's sleep.

"England! It's snowing outside~!"

Unknown to America, England's aura was growing slowly blacker. It was one thing for America to disturb him the one time he could sleep in, but to disturb him for something as trivial as a snow day! Inexcusable. Of course, England was a gentleman and couldn't act out his annoyance, so instead, he stayed in bed, like he hadn't heard the other at all.

There was a pause and then footsteps as America walked closer.

"Dude, you awake?" he asked. England didn't respond, holding his breath. He thought the American was about to leave when he suddenly felt a large weight on the bed and felt himself be pushed up in the air. He landed again, eyes wide with shock.

"There you are!" America was standing on the bed, having successfully jumped onto it.

England spluttered, face red.

"Y-you idiot! Get off the bed now!"

America continued to smile as he got off the bed, still looking at England.

"So, since you're awake, let's go out in the snow?"

"No!" England shouted, covering himself with the sheets again.

It took America a long time to coax England out of bed and downstairs, and even more to get him to come outside. When they were finnaly outdoors, America set about making a snow fort, rolling up snow into a sort-of-hill. England, however, just stod in the snow, arms folded.

"Come on England! Build a snow fort with me!"

"No." England replied sternly.

America continued building for a while, England finnaly thinking that the other had given up when he suddenly felt something very cold and wet on the back of his head. He turned around as quick as a snake and gave his best glare to the other, who was hiding behind his hill of snow.

"America!"

"Yes?"

"You better be ready for war!"

A couple of hours later, England and America were on the couch in England's living-room, watching tv. Both were soaking wet.

"Hah ha!" America laughed "I didn't know you'd be so good at snow-ball fights dude!"

"Heh." The Brit snickered, taking a sip from his tea "You better remember it."

Despite everything, today had been fun. England could feel a weight slowly fall upon his eyelids. He felt the weight become heavier and heavier. Eventually, America felt a weight on his shoulder and looked over to see that England had fallen fast asleep. He smiled, moving himself slightly, making sure not to wake the Brit up. He kissed him on the forehead.

"Glad you had a good day, babe."


	19. Night PruCan

**Theme 18: Night**

**Pairing: PruCan**

**Date Written: 14****th**** September 2013**

Have you ever tried putting a child to sleep? It's not easy. For as many years as humanity has existed, there have been some fundamental questions in this world. Why were we created? Who created us? How in the hell do we get this crying child to shut up and sleep?

Some people use lullabies, others stories.

Prussia, however, is very particular about how he will fall asleep.

"Birdie, don't move~ Otherwise I won't be able to sleep."

Canada sighed as he stopped moving, Prussia's arms wrapped around his chest and legs in almost the same position, wrapped around him like a monkey hanging onto a tree-trunk. Prussia's head rested on Canada's shoulder.

Prussia was many things, obnoxious, loud, emotional and audacious. But, 'overly affectionate' and 'needy' wasn't something people normally put on that list, most likely because most people never stayed around the Prussian long enough to figure that out.

"You know you could just use one of those hug pillows, right?"

Canada supplied. He didn't dislike Prussia snuggling with him, far from it, it made him feel like he was needed. Sometimes though, the position could become embarrassing or uncomfortable.

"No." Prussia said sternly, his voice taking on a slightly more serious tone, "the Awesome Me will not use those demoralising things, what do I look like, a pervert?"

Canada tried not to smile at that. Sometimes, even Prussia himself seemed to be ignorant as to what he did. He didn't mind, it was a cute thing about him.

"Fine, fine, okay." He said, feeling Prussia relax with a contented sigh.

It didn't take long for Prussia to fall asleep. Soon he was quietly snoring in Canada's ears, warm breath ticking them as well. Canada waited for a few more minutes before turning around in the other's grip and snuggling closely into his chest. Canada couldn't say he loved snuggling quite as much as the Prussia, but he couldn't say he hated it either. And so, another night of this couple passed peacefully.


	20. Day USUK

**Theme 19: Day**

**Pairing: USUK**

**Date Written: 16****th**** September 2013**

"What the hell are you doing, you git!?"

Another day, another occasion of America getting screamed at by his boyfriend. It was a common occurrence, so by now he was used to it, much to the annoyance of England. The said thing that America was doing was messing around in England's bedroom. England always had a thing about his bedroom being proper and tidy. The walls were cream and free of any and all posters, unlike America's room which was full of them. The carpet was simple and a emerald green. His bed, as well, was as neat and as boring as the rest of his room. The covers and sheets were all white and dusty, most likely ones from when America had been a kid. He was endeavouring to help the Brit out with his terrible sense of style by getting rid of the old, white duvet cover and instead replacing it with one of the American flag.

"But it looks cool, England!"

"No, it does not! I liked my old bed-sheets, thank you very much. At least you could have used my flag instead of yours!"

America smiled. He raised his finger, pointing up as if the Brit could see into his head, saying,

"But if this duvet cover is always here, then it's like I'm always here, even when I'm not." He looked at England, putting on the puppy-dog eyes and pout "don't you like that idea, Iggy?"

England was practically blushing up to his ears at that comment. Despite everything the Brit tried to be, he was a fairly sentimental man and was quite weak to those of whom he loved. America fit that description very well and knew just how to use that weakness when he needed to, like now.

Needless to say, the cover stayed. Another day, another stupid idea, another occasion of making love on the newly-Americanised bed.


	21. Colour PruCan

**Theme 20: Colour**

**Pairing: PruCan**

**Date Written: 16****th**** September 2013**

Red. Fire, anger, blood, passion, love.

Blue. Cool, calm, relaxed, water, peace.

Colours, although they are seemingly simple on the surface, have many different connotations and meanings behind them. The words that describe colour are more than apt to describe the humans that embody them. Some people have the temper of red, others the temper of blue. Some have the skills of red like leadership and some have the skills of blue like negotiation. Colours, and the meanings they hold within them, are almost as infinite as the shades you can create with them.

That word is where it gets interesting. Shades. Are you a deep blood red or simply a light almost pink-one? Are you the deep blue of the sea, or the light blue of the sky? Then the theory spreads out and many more connotations are added. Does blood red mean you are more prone to fits of rage? Does sky blue mean you are more naïve?

Take for example, a Prussian and Canadian. One has eyes and temperament of red and one of blue, but does that really explain everything, every single thing about them?

Finally, the combination of colours, what happened when you combine red and blue? You get purple, a colour of mystery, calmness, royalty and spiritual awareness.

Colours are amazing things, they can describe images, emotions, people and relationships. The limits are endless.

This is bad, but oh well. I am tired and wrote two tonight as I was tired yesterday and could not write one. Sorry if this one made no sense.


	22. Note USUK

**Theme 21: Note**

**Pairing: USUK**

**Date Written: 18****th**** September 2013**

'I hope you've woken up, idiot'.

Said the yellow sticky-note which was placed onto the bed-side nightstand. The hand-writing was eloquent and curvy, obviously England's. America was fighting a smile and a frown as he saw the small note. It was cute that England would leave behind a rather backwards good morning note, but it was also sad that he couldn't deliver it himself.

England had to go to work early that morning, leaving the American, who had been allowed some off-days, behind in his house until his return that evening. America eventually chose to smile as he got up, walking over to a corner of the room where his clothes, horridly mislaid the other night, had been folded up neatly. Another note, this time a green one, lay on top.

'Stop leaving your clothes everywhere.'

America pouted a bit at that, it wasn't his fault that the clothes had been barriers for his love-making, was it? He decided not to continue down this line of thought, because the last time he had tried to put a 'right to nudity' law in the constitution, he had almost been castrated.

He put on his clothes, then walked downstairs, deciding he should go into the kitchen and make himself breakfast. The kitchen was spotless, as it most always was, which was ironic, considering the monstrosities that were made there. On the counter lay a blue note.

'If you are thinking of cooking, try not to almost burn my house down… again.'

Now America was beginning to get slightly annoyed. Was England just going to use every chance he got to insult him? Okay, he'd caused a small gas fire once, so what? The food had still been better than most things the Brit could cook himself. He decided to make himself some cereal, reasoning it wasn't because he was worried about causing a fire again, and walked into the living room, flopping onto the couch and picking up the tv remote.

There was a pink note underneath it.

'Stop watching so much TV.'.

Now America was really mad, frowning deeply as he got up from the couch, putting the bowl of cereal to one side as he started to walk towards the front door. That was it, he was not taking this kind of treatment anymore.

Just as he reached the front door, he saw the final note. It was on blood-red paper and read.

'I love you, see you when I get home love.'

America blushed and, despite all the other comments the Brit had made earlier, he beamed. He walked back to the couch and turned on the Tv. Yes, the Brit knew him well, almost too well. He'd get him back for this, he would. But later, when England was back and able to be encased by America's arms.


	23. Fire PruCan

**Theme 22: Fire**

**Pairing: PruCan**

**Date Written: 18****th**** September 2013**

Fire is a mystery. People learn from a very young age that fire is a beautiful thing, but that if mistreated or taken advantage of, it can take away as much as it gives. Yet, there is a contradiction. Are we not taught hat fire is a harbinger of death and destruction? Is it not implied that fire in many tales and songs that fire is something that can never last, never prosper, and only serves to steal all light from the world? Then why are we also taught that fire can bring new life to old and dead worlds. Why are we taught that fire is what made us who we are, gave us the foundation that, without it, we could be reduced to stumbling morons or worse?

Maybe it is down to interpretation. But, to me, fire is like a woman. Do not scorn her and she will be kind, be impudent and you might as well wave your balls goodbye, so-long.

Now, why do I speak of this fire? The elements that sweeps and swirls and slides as few other elements do so majestically? Because of his eyes. Eyes of fire, eyes that have seen more than any one man should wish to see in their life-times. Yet, he has not been doused by the passage of time. In fact, he seems to have bee brightened by it. The fire he has is bright, a beacon, something people can run to in the times when they need safety.

The fire that will never cease.

The eternal flame that rests within his heart and soul.


	24. Path USUK

**Theme 23: Path**

**Pairing: USUK**

**Date Written: 21****st**** September 2013**

Every life is a path and for every door we close, another one opens. Or at least that's what they say in those stupid quotes you see at the beginning of books. Anyway, where was I going with this? Oh yes, a path.

It wasn't often that England and America were a couple, in public at least. They were, despite everything, fairly private about their romance, though that didn't stop everyone in the whole world knowing about them. It was a day in spring and the sun was shining for once in England's sky. England and America finally had the same day off and because America had gotten bored just sitting inside the house, he had decided to pull England out and with him to a nearby park.

"This is stupid."

"Why, dude? Don't you like taking walks?" America asked, turning his head to England as they walked side by side.

"I do," England replied. He then crossed his arms and shivered slightly, "but I hate doing it in the spring, its freezing."

"Is it?" America questioned, looking honestly confused. Of course the America wouldn't notice, he had the body heat of an oven.

England didn't even try to reply as he tried to walk faster than America, though that didn't last long as America lengthened his stride and keep up with relative ease.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"Something's wrong."

"Nothing is wrong Ame- Alfred…" England cut himself off, remembering in public they had to call themselves by their human names.

America pouted for a short second before moving his right hand down and across and grabbing England's hand with it. England instantly blushed and looked away, not used to the affectionate contact.

"Your hand is cold." America said, a sigh in his words. His Brit sure was stubborn. He kept his hand wrapped around England's, twisting their arms together so they were close together and England was getting some of America's radiant heat.

They continued walking down the path, America smiling at having done yet another good deed while England blushed and squeezed his boyfriend's hand back.


	25. Symbol PruCan

**Theme 24: Symbol**

**Pairing: PruCan**

**Date Written: 21****st**** September 2013**

"Hey, Prussia?" Canada asked. The two were sitting on a small hill, looking up at the clouds and saying what they thought they looked like.

"Ja, Birdie?" the other replied, still looking up at a c loud which looked similar to his Gilbird, who was nestled in his hair like always.

"What kind of bird is Gilbird?"

"Huh?" Prussia responded, confused. He and Canada had been going out for a while now and during all this time, he had never asked about Gilbird, most likely just accepting him as something that was always there.

"Well," Prussia cleared his throat "you know that eagle on my awesome flag? That's him."

Canada's eyes widened at that and he looked at the cute yellow chick who seemed to be dozing on Prussia's head.

"He's an eagle?" He questioned, not fully convinced.

"Strange, right? When West was young, Gilbird was a full-grown eagle and he was always by my side. But it seems that recently he's just, well, gone back in time to when he was a chick. He doesn't even grow anymore. West thinks it is because Gilbird is a symbol of my status as a nation."

Canada paused. That was a lot of importance to place on a single bird. But, then again, it meant that Prussia was still a nation, if only a very small one. It was a symbol of hope, of perseverance. Funny, considering it was such a cute chick.


	26. Lightning USUK

**Theme 25: Lightning**

**Pairing: USUK**

**Date Written: 22****nd**** September 2013**

England and America are different in many aspects. England is the gentlemanly, short-tempered Englishman with a wild side, while America is an obnoxious, oblivious man who isn't as dumb as some people think he is.

Okay, maybe they're not that different. But their different enough to argue on quite a lot of trivial things. However, some things they are both the same in.

_Crack! Boom, Boom!_

The lightning and thunder goes in the night sky, the weather gods banging their drums and zapping the world for the delight and fear of human-kind. America and England sat inside America's house, sitting on the couch in the living-room. The power had gone out ages ago but neither of the two had moved to try and fix it. In fact, they were both just sitting there, neither moving nor speaking. They were both shaking, though neither would let the other see it.

"B-bad storm isn't it?" England stuttered, trying to calm his body. He was absolutely terrified of lightning. It reminded him too much of past regrets, of past traumas. But he couldn't let America see him scared. He couldn't.

"Y-yeah." America stuttered back. He was also scared of thunder-storms. They reminded him too much of battle and real-life conflict. But, he wouldn't show England his fear. He wouldn't.

There was another crash of thunder and lightning and both jumped, bumping against each other on the couch. They both blushed and turned away.

"S-sorry." They both said at the same time.

They both went wide-eyed as they noticed their partner's shaking and turned to each other, being able to only see each other's outlines in the darkness of the living-room.

"Are you-"America began.

"Scared?" England finished.

They didn't have time to ask any more questions as there was another crash and they both jumped again, wrapping their arms around each and holding on tight.

"J-just until the storm stops, right?" America said, gripping tightly with both arms around England's mid-section, leaning into the other's warm body.

"S-sure." England responded, arm curled around America's neck.

That night they fell asleep to each other's heartbeats, ignoring the storm outside as they revelled in each other's warmth and protection. In some things, these two are the same. One of them is a need for someone to count on.


	27. Silk PruCan

**Theme 26: Silk**

**Pairing: PruCan**

**Date Written: 24****th**** September 2013**

It was another ordinary night, okay, maybe not. Canada was on the bed, looking up at Prussia and panting from the most recent kiss they had shared. His shirt had already been practically torn off and as he looked up at Prussia, he wished the other would do the same.

"You look turned on Birdie~" the other said, a prideful tone to his voice. He obviously loved making his Birdie hot like this.

Canada beneath him didn't respond, only making a sound halfway between a whimper and a growl at the other. He reached up and grabbed Prussia's shirt with his hands. It was silken. Prussia said that ever since his young days he had gained a love for the smooth and cooling material, to him it was versatile. He'd always complained that no other nations wore it, most likely because they were all too girly to wear silk.

It was just one of the contradictory things that made Prussia, Prussia. And as Canada lifted the shirt off with practiced ease, he smiled. Now that the silk was gone, he could see Prussia's rough side, and oh did he love it.


	28. Waterfall USUK

**Theme 27: Waterfall**

**Pairing: USUK**

**Date Written: 24****th**** September 2013**

Have you ever felt that life is just some bad drama scripted by some hack script-writer? I mean have you seen the amount of love triangles, squares and hexagons in high school and up? Ridiculous. And then you get the cliques, oh, the cliques.

Anyway, so the basic point is, is that life has moments where ou feel like you're stuck in a tv show. This is one of them.

It wasn't often that England and America went camping. It wasn't like they didn't enjoy it, more like because they didn't have time because of being nations or the weather was bad or they couldn't find a nice, quiet place where the two of them could be together with no-one peeping in on them. Today, though, was one of the rare times all those issues had been resolved.

It was a nice place in the mountains, with a forest surrounding it and a waterfall that cascaded all the way to the bottom.

When they had arrived, England had instantly started walking off to the waterfall.

"Where ya goin', dude?"

"To wash myself, the climb up here was tough."

"Oh… okay." America said brightly. England walked off, blissfully unaware of te perverted thoughts in America's mind.

It was erotic fiction 101, your partner goes to bath themselves in a discreet location In the mountains. They get completely naked and start lathing themselves and then the hero accidently sees and the partner blushes and then they kiss and then get down and dir-

America stopped himself halfway through a nose-bleed.

He quickly clogged his nose and then went after England, using his supposed 'ninja-skills' to make sure he wasn't seen.

When he got to the waterfall he found a bush and hid behind it, looking at England from afar. England was in a small pool formed by the waterfall, facing away from America. America was about to get ready to pounce when suddenly a hedgehog crawled over to where e was crouching. He hadn't noticed and had moved back, sitting on the hedgehog. The hedgehog promptly defended itself and curled into a ball, spiking America who yelped loudly.

"Yeouch!"

"What the hell are you doing you git!?" England shouted, turning around to see America trying to pick spikes out of his trousers. Needless to say, America was left there with a red mark on his face and hedgehog spikes in his butt.

Yep, sometimes life is like a bad screenplay, he lamented. But why can't they be the erotic ones?


	29. Memories PruCan

Theme 28: Memories

Pairing: PruCan

Date Written: 25th September 2013

If you think about it, who are you? You could tell me you are you, a human, a girl or a boy, young or old. But what are you really? In high school science you are taught that everything is made of atoms, right? Well, then you should also know that atoms constantly replace each other and that every five years we have all-new atoms than we did in the five years preceding that. So then, who are we? My theory is that maybe, just maybe, we – our true selves- are simply wandering conscious', made our experiences, our views, our lives.

Memories are part of this, in fact, memories, more than anything else, seem to govern who we were and who we became and who we will be. So, you can say that memories are the one of the most important aspects of being us, being human.

What happens though when you have memories that stretch the length of not a hundred years, nor a thousand, but thousands of years? What if you had memories of every single war that took place on planet Earth? What if you had memories of every king, queen, prime minster and president who ever rose or fell? It's an interesting question isn't it? Not just in a philosophical sense either.

But, philosophically and psychologically, it is a condrum. There is one question that seems to stand out among this. What would you remember? We can only hold a certain amount of knowledge in our brains, no matter how vast. So, what would we remember? Could we choose to forget some things and remember others? Would we be forced to forget?

I have someone I want to remember. He is like me, though maybe a bit shorter and a bit cuter. Would I forget him if I lived for another thousand years, another hundred, another day? It's that question, and the questions behind it, that lead me to desire to never be apart from him. It's that single question that makes me wonder, is being a nation, a blessing or a curse?

I'm not about to let some slack-jaw scientists do some experiments on me, but it's still an interesting idea.

So let me ask you.

Who are you?


	30. Sleep USUK

Theme 29: Sleep

Pairing: USUK

Date Written: 25th September 2013

A sigh blew across the room, long and slow. It was a content sigh, filled with the satisfaction of half a night of loving. England lay in bed, looking at the American by his side. He was tired, yea, but he always stayed up to see this moment.

Seeing people sleep is an interesting experience. You see them at their weakest. At the stage where they can put up no resistance to you. Maybe that's why people find it cute. England did, at least, though he'd be damned if he admitted that openly. Besides, he only did it with the American.

America looked up at England with hazy eyes. He was trying to stay awake too, wanting to beat England, though he didn't really know why the other did it. He guessed it was because the other was stubborn. But, slowly, ever so slowly, his eyes started to become heavy and his muscles lost their energy and went lax. His eyes closed and his breathing slowed and evened with the tune of the rest of his body.

England watched as the other fell into the black pool that was the unconscious. It was cute, but now came the even cuter part. A few seconds after America's breathing had evened out, he started mumbling. It seemed to be a trait within the Jones family that they sleep-talked. Prussia had bragged to England many-a-time of the conversations he had with his sleepy boyfriend. While England would splutter and curse at the other's vulgar words and connotations, he knew he was just as bad.

"America? Are you awake?"

No response.

"America?"

Still no response. England took a deep breath, then took the final jump.

"Alfred?" It was something he never did when the other was awake.

"Mmm… Iggy~"

Success.

"Do you love me?"

"Of… course… I do… Arthur…"

England blushed madly at that. He found the utterance of his human name quite embarrassing.

The sleeping America continued.

"Do you… like me?"

A pause.

"Of course I do, you git."

A sleepy laugh, then a sigh.

A strong, tanned arm came from below the covers and wrapped it self around England's waist.

"You're nice… and… warm…"

England blushed but laughed slightly. The other was positively adorable like this.

"So are you."

"Arthur…"

"Alfred…"

"Stay… together…"

England smiled, another rare thing.

"Always, love."

America smiled as he fell back into deeper sleep and England with him. America would surely be embarrassed in the morning about being huddled right into England's chest. But, then again, he'd smiled when he saw the other curled around him like a little cat, smiling.


	31. Chance PruCan Final

Theme 30: Chance

Paring: PruCan

Date Written: 26th September 2013

"West~"

"Vhat, bruder?" the irritated German said, sighing as he knew he would have to listen to another one of his brother's crazy rants.

"Vhy is the awesome me here? I mean, I'm awesome and everything but don't you tight-asses normally not invite me?"

Germany sighed, it was this question again. He'd been over this with his brother several times already, each time the language he used becoming dumber so the other would understand what he was saying. In all honesty though, it was rather complicated. It'd been a long time since Prussia had been extinguished as a nation after WW2 and since then, despite the strange fact the other was alive and kicking, he had been advised against going to any world summit meetings until the other countries could decide what to do.

"In other vords," Prussia chimed in, "you were all scared because I broke the mould and wanted to bolster your defences, right?"

It wasn't exactly the truth, but close enough to it to make Germany almost look away from the road in embarrassment. He knew his brother didn't particularly mind being excluded from the meetings, at the time, he had been more pre-occupied with trying not to turn crazy at the hands of Russia, but he knew it probably still hurt, deep down.

Anyway, now was the first summit meeting that Prussia was going to be a part of since he had lost his status.

"They probably missed how awesome I was, heh." Prussia chuckled.

It was actually to determine what he was, but Germany wasn't going to tell him that. A chirp stopped the conversation. Prussia grinned and petted the yellow chick on his head.

"You agree, Gilbird~"

A chirp was all that came back in response and Prussia laughed, letting the bird nestle back into his silver-white locks again. Germany sighed inwardly, this was not going to be a fun meeting. Not like there ever was one to begin with.

When they got to the hall, everything seemed relatively normal to the Prussian. Well, as normal as a hall full of personified countries could be anyway. Everything was normal, except, nobody seemed to notice him. Not even a nod from his old bad touch friends. They seemed too intent on either staring at the ground, which was unusual, or trying to act serious, which was also strange. It made Prussia uncomfortable, though he would never admit that. He sat down next to Germany and then the meeting started. Normally, Prussia was used to the meetings going out of control within five seconds of starting, but this time, things seemed to go as planned, now Prussia was getting scared. He sat down and forced a smile, he could feel this was not going to be good.

"We are here today," England said, standing at the head of the table, "to discuss matters of policy and economy, to discuss war and peace… but today," he looked straight at Prussia, which he wouldn't have minded if the other didn't have that damned sad look in his eyes, like he was about to do something he regretted, "we are here to talk about what should be done about the state of Prussia."

The room was silent. Prussia growled and stood up, he wasn't taking this, not again.

"I am the sta- no empire of Prussia. You expect me to just lie down like a damn dog and take this scheiße against my name!"

"Bruder, sit do-"Germany started.

"Nein!" Prussia shouted back, causing his brother to shut up entirely, "this is vhat you brought me for, right? To defend myself?"

A pause. It was a question. Germany didn't answer. Prussia growled again, disturbing Gilbird who could almost sense his master's distress and flew off.

"What do you all say then!?" he exclaimed. He knew he shouldn't be reacting like this, knew he shouldn't be so weak. But he couldn't, couldn't live through this again.

A silence. America broke it.

"We agreed that it might be…" he paused and swallowed, looking nervous for once in his life. Prussia tensed his muscles, "maybe you could like, I don't know disappear?"

Prussia grit his teeth, his face like thunder. America tried to cover himself.

"I mean, not in that way but you know, go and live on an island or something and never come back, you know?" that only succeeded in making it worse.

"Vhat!?" Prussia literally jumped onto the desk and started running towards, America, charging at him to attack. That brat wanted him to disappear, leave, go out in a cloud of smoke!?

"Not fucking likely!" Prussia shouted.

It took four of the stronger male countries to hold Prussia back, Germany included. Prussia looked at his brother with the saddest puppy-dog eyes he could, but when they did nothing he chose the kicking option instead, until his muscles lost their energy and he was left panting on the floor.

"Bastards…" he murmured "you are all bastards… every single one of you! I'm Prussia, mother-fricking Prussia! You can't kill me!" Then Prussia started laughing. Oh god, the laughing. It was sign he was breaking. He knew it because it had happened before, when he had been dissolved. He was manically laughing, unable to stop, continuously murmuring;

"Can't kill the awesome me…. Can't kill the awesome me…" the men dropped him, no longer seeing him as a threat.

America spoke again.

"Sorry, dude…" he sounded sincere, not like Prussia cared, "the plane is waiting nearby… you'll like it on that island, don't worry…"

Prussia was close to crying, oh so close. But he kept laughing, kept smiling and kept cursing his terrible luck.

He was going to be gone, out, finite, dead to the world. Everything was going to end here.

"Wait!" an exclamation filled the silent room, though it in itself was rather quiet. Everyone looked over to where the sound had come from to see America. Wait, not America. Canada stomped up, trying to push through the crowd, though he had a hard time doing so because of his stature.

"He has a chance."

A pause and then everyone said it at once, including Prussia.

"A chance?"

Canada walked over to Prussia, who was still on the floor and bent down at his side. This was when Prussia noticed Gilbird planted on top of the other's head and the other's purple eyes that seemed to calm him.

"Birdie…" he said, smiling to himself at the newly-formed nickname, if only a little.

Canada blushed, the shook his head.

"Do you want to become my state?"

There was no response at first. Germany was sure his brother would refuse, shout and kick. He would never be under anyone else's command.

Instead he grabbed the Canadian around the waist and pulled him down so he could hide his head in his shoulder. He whispered.

"Danke…"

Then he cried, the great Prussia cried, cried in relief and sadness, in there in Canada's arms.

It was how the two had met and while Canada had never told Prussia why he had done what he did that day, Prussia knew it must be for a good reason.

"Prussia!" he shouted "where are you? I told you to take out the trash!"

Canada rounded the corner and walked in, expecting Prussia to be watching TV or something. Instead, he was asleep, lying sprawled out among the cushions, snoring quietly. Canada smiled and walked up to him, bending down and looking at his face. He looked cute when he slept, just like he had back then and always had. He felt a need to protect the other's glass heart, the fire that lived within him that was as beautiful, if not more, than any night or piece of silk. It was why he had done that back then.

He kissed him lightly on the lips and the other smiled, a gentle smile. One he only showed around Canada. Gilbird chirped, hopping onto Canada's head from Prussia's. Canada giggled and walked off, deciding to let Prussia off this once. He then suddenly felt himself grabbed from behind and looked t see that Prussia had latched onto him in his sleep. Canada sighed. Meeting a man like this was a one in a million chance. Having a love like this was one in a billion. In the end, no matter what you believe, chance is one of the most powerful forces in this world.

And it brought these two together.

That one chance, when a new Prussia was born.

And thank you guys, for giving me the chance (see what I did there… I'll stop now) to write this. See you next time on MFBB and I hope you enjoyed this! Bye Bye!

30 Day, 30 Fic Challenge.

Success.

Date ended: 26th September 2013


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